


never rains (but it pours)

by typicalrockstar2 (TypicalRockstar)



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Chicago White Sox, Ficlet, M/M, Reaction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 03:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19715419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TypicalRockstar/pseuds/typicalrockstar2
Summary: Everyone has bad games, sure.But not everyone has a catcher to piece them back together.





	never rains (but it pours)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure that there's anyone else out there who wants or reads White Sox fic but this is something I needed to write for myself to deal with Gio's bad game (actually, more just one singular bad inning) on July 6, 2019. Lucas and James have a great relationship and if CWS was a bigger market I'd be writing so much of them, but alas. Apparently I'm only able to muster up cathartic ficlets instead. 
> 
> Enjoy, and go Sox!

Lucas fucks up. 

It’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid. He’s going to the goddamn All Star Game in a few days, yet here he is; walking bases loaded in one of the most meaningful games of the year. On national fucking television. 

He tries not to look at what’s said about him online, in the media, but he can imagine. He chokes under pressure. He’s reverting back to failing the pitcher he was last season. He can’t face the fucking Cubs. He’s a  _ fluke. _

He’s going to Cleveland in three days, but does he really deserve to be there?

There’s a hand on his shoulder, and the couch dips next to him. He doesn’t look, doesn’t flinch. Dutifully takes the mug of tea pushed into his hands without a word, but doesn’t sip it. 

“Luke,” James sighs, “you’re going to be okay.”

He clutches the mug in his hand tighter, lets the warmth fill his hands. “Six runs,” is all he says, miserable.

“Just-- Look, start by drinking some of that. It’ll calm you down.” James looks pointedly at the tea. He scoots closer, knocks their knees together, rests one hand on Lucas’s thigh. “Drink. Please.”

Lucas does, then, because James asked him to. Because James is rubbing soothing circles over his thigh. Because James sounds so desperate and helpless, and the least he can do is not let him down about this, too.

“There,” Lucas says, a little mean, a little petulant, once he sips at it. “Happy?”

“You need to focus, chill out, and get out of your head,” James says patiently, isn’t even phased by Lucas’s attitude one bit. “Forget about baseball for a sec and just breathe, okay? Drink your damn tea and breathe.”

He still feels like acting out, still feels a little sulky, a little bratty but he finally looks at James, then, and suddenly feels a pang of guilt for taking it out on him. The ill feelings in his chest don’t necessarily go away, not all the way, but it’s easier to push it down like this. 

James must notice, because he moves in, wraps his arm around Lucas’s shoulders and pulls him in, just holds him. Holds him together when he’s scared he’s about to fall apart. Lucas relaxes into it, him, the security of it all. 

“There you go,” James says, quiet, hushed into his Lucas’s hair. “Let it go, clear your head. It’s a new day tomorrow.”

“They won’t start me in Cleveland,” Lucas says, exhaling into words the last bit of what he’s feeling. “Not after that.”

“Probably not,” James doesn’t argue, takes the half-empty mug from Lucas’s hands and sets it on the coffee table. “But you’re still an All Star. And we get to be there together.”

“You deserve it,” Lucas says, and it’s sweet on the surface but James knows him better than that. Can read him better than that.

“And so do you, babe,” James says with as much conviction as he can. “Look at how far you’ve come. Look at how much you’ve accomplished.”

“But what if--”

“Stop,” James doesn’t let him finish that thought. “You did that. That’s facts, that’s not a fluke. You built yourself up and it’s written in the books. You’ve done incredible things. You can’t discount that.”

“Okay,” Lucas acquiesces, more of a breath than a word. “Okay,” again, steadier. 

James lets him settle, keeps him close until his shoulders fully relax, until his breathing slows. Until he’s nearly asleep on the couch, just content to have James wrapped around him.

“Forget about baseball for now,” James whispers, not even sure if Lucas is still awake to hear it. “I’ve got you, I’ve always got you.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> mostly a hockey rpf twitter, fair warning, but I'm over at @[pinkmanite](http://twitter.com/pinkmanite) 🖤


End file.
